


Avalanche

by quoll



Category: Crash Bandicoot (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Childhood Friends, Developing Relationship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Snowball Fight, ginbrio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-18 19:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoll/pseuds/quoll
Summary: Being tasked with repairing an old base on earth comes with some unexpected surprises.





	Avalanche

When was the last time he’d seen snow? Real, _actual_, not simulated snow? Try a he might, he couldn’t really remember. Between living in Cortex Castle with its perpetual storms, and the rest of the time in uneventful space, he surmised it had been years. He turned to the sky and winced at the sharp coldness that pelted his face. It wasn’t so much that it was unpleasant, just... _different_. Its difference was new and _exciting_, and the way the thousands of small flakes cheerfully twirled and danced in the wind was whimsical. 

The doctor closed his eyes and sighed, content, and allowed the lazy barrage. As he stood here he felt oddly centered, and for a moment he felt weightless. A hushed silence had fallen in the area around him and, with strained ears, he could hear the gentle plinks and crackles of the snow setting both around and on him. Rarely did he ever have the urge to appreciate the serenity of nature, but apparently this blip of peace was something he desperately needed.

Gin swayed slightly now, opening his eyes again and gazed once more into the overcast sky above him. The sight of snow hurling towards him reminded him of being a child in the car at night. When it snowed and he stared through the windshield, he would imagine he was going into hyper speed through space. That same memory persisted into the present, and he found himself yearning for that same sense of wonder, an intrigue that came so naturally and unbiased. Though he had witnessed just that many times in his own space craft, it didn’t compare the same to his imagination. They were very different feelings. 

Watching the approaching blizzard brought numerous memories to the forefront of his mind, of days in the academy, courtyards deserted for the only week vacation the students received, and always in the winter. He and a few others were left, either with no homes to return to, or no means to go home… and he and those few others had grown close during their years there.

These thoughts earned a twist in his chest and a grimace to settle on his previously serene features. Fond memories brought with them a pang of mourning, a time deeply cherished now gone and faded into another lifetime. With these pleasantries also came the crushing self awareness that he was dissatisfied with his life, and made him tread into the dangerous mental territory of ‘what if’...

A snowflake pelting him on the delicate ridge of scar tissue between his eyes jolted him out of his pensive state and back into the snow flurries. He was once again enamored with the expansive wooded tundra as he wiped some of the snow off his face and out of his hair. It stuck to his gloves and he took a moment to observe the delicate crystals of ice. His cybernetic eye was able to view it in such intimate detail that it looked to be a whole other world, a kingdom of clear quartz.

How wonderful it would be to have the burdens and worries of responsibility dropped from his shoulders and to just _be_. A giddy robotic wheeze left him as he scooped up some of the snow and examined it before tossing it in the air. It produced a dazzling display of glimmering iridescent powder that mingled with the drifting snow around him. It was beautiful, and the sight of it exhilarated him. He even took the step to stick out his tongue in an attempt to catch the falling flakes.

Try as he might, he just wasn’t quite dexterous enough to catch the rapidly falling flakes, and it seemed they curved around his awaiting mouth specifically to pelt him in the eye. It stung and burned, but even in his defeat he giggled and rubbed the water from his eye with his scarf. He turned in place, adoring the crunchy compact snow under his boots, then flinging his scarf out of his hand along with an ugly robotic blip of alarm. 

There his superior stood, bundled up in an almost comical fashion with the furred hood of his parka drawn around his face. What little bit of his deadpan expression he could make out from under all the layers, he could tell the other man was not amused.

”Hehe, Master, I was just uh… _examining_ the different structures of the snowflakes. Their composition is really quite _fascinating_…” N Gin gave an awkward chuckle, at the end of his meager attempt to defend himself. Cortex merely huffed as he approached his peon, a seemingly endless trek for his small figure even though it was six feet at most. 

The closer he got, the easier it was for Gin to see he was visibly shivering, teeth chattering as he wrapped his arms around his torso for warmth. His sour expression was only further exaggerated by how scrunched up it was peeking out from the confines of the fur trim of his hood and scarf. There really was nothing to him, and this plus the exaggerated stepping motions as he struggled to find footing in the deep snow, drew another giggle from Gin, and an acidic glare from his boss.

Death glares aside, Cortex shrugged his response off. Right now he was too cold to give any more energy to thinking about it, "We should get back to base, I know that bandicoot is around here _somewhere_… You _were_ supposed to be looking for a shelter, not _playing_. Once again, it looks like I have to do everything myself."

His master trudged past him, awkwardly stomping in the snow. With a pause, N Gin followed after him, waddling like a penguin and shuffling along in his superior's footprints. That's right, in his pondering and whimsy he’d nearly forgotten there was never a true moment’s rest. They weren’t here for a fun winter retreat, strictly business.

Cortex wasn't too pleased how none of his team had been able to apprehend Crash and Coco. For _weeks_ they'd been trying, but each time they evaded their traps. Up until now he'd only sent the minions, but his patience with them had long since worn out and there were different avenues that had to be considered. Cortex didn’t like the hands on approach so much, but it according to him, that’s what it inevitably came down to.

Though Gin would prefer to be left to his own devices, he couldn't lie that he was excited to finally be off the space station for a while and breath actual, real air and feel the solid earth beneath his feet. There was no changing of seasons on the space station, no snow, no tweeting songbirds or cooing of doves. He adored space, he loved every second of living his childhood dreams of witnessing the beauty of the cosmos, and being surrounded by technology, but there were times where he truly did yearn for the simplicity of earth itself. If it meant following Cortex around and fetching him hot chocolate, then so be it. There were certainly worse fates.

“Where are we going, Master?” N Gin asked curiously from behind as he shuffled along. Come to think of it, Cortex had been rather vague in his wording when he invited Gin to come with him. He knew they were here for _something_, he just wasn’t sure what exactly that particular thing was. Already he was a little disoriented, as time and distance traveled had little meaning in a place with no land marks, only trees and snow.

“About twenty years ago, I set up a base here to get myself grounded before claiming Castle Cortex as my own. Conveniently, the bandicoots have been located around this same area numerous times, and I predict they’ll be in this vicinity for a while.” Cortex carried on while they walked, “My scanners have been showing activity of numerous power crystals and gems located in the ice caverns deep underground, and I know those burrowing little vermin won’t be able to resist sniffing them out.”

“Yes, I have a feeling that having a local outpost here, in addition to the search parties we already have in the surrounding area, and the space station scanning the wider territory… we should be able to have a better advantage over those cretins.”

“We are closing in on all sides.”

“_Exactly_.” Cortex nodded, pleased they were on the same page. Doctor Cortex’s approval certainly did more to warm him to his core than any fireplace or blankets could, “I think this approach will finally be what guarantees our victory, where I can take my long overdue and rightful place as the leader of the world. After that, I’m branching out to the solar system and beyond. I’ll make an _entire_ dimension dedicated to _me_. Can you imagine anything more beautiful than that, N Gin?”

It was good to have ambitions, and hearing Cortex’s glee over his impending success certainly infected him as well as he nodded eagerly in agreement. Joy was contagious, a delightful disease that consumed everything in the vicinity. Gin picked up the pace, following now more beside his superior than behind him, his new found anticipation taking hold.

“But before we get ahead of ourselves… I have something _very_ special in mind for you N Gin, I think you’re really going to like what I have to show you. You’re the _first_ person I thought of when I came up with this plan.” Cortex continued on. The cyborg’s giddiness now radiated off him as an almost tangible, electric aura. Small eager giggles warbled in his throat, resting his his voice module as little computerized clicks and garbled beeps.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at a particularly large snowbank surrounded by smaller trees and patches of grass. Cortex scraped some of the snow off the edge of the awkward hill and had Gin assist him in moving the overgrowth of roots and vegetation that had encased what appeared to be a door.

With much effort, they managed to break through the entanglement and give way to the dingy iron underneath. There was a small security terminal beside it, screen cracked, but surprisingly functional after some tinkering.

Cortex was silent as he worked to bypass all of the security protocols and struggling to remember information and passwords from decades past. The wind was growing more violent and the snow that previously had tickled his face now stung and bit at the chapped skin of his cheeks and nose. He turned away from the wind and huddled into himself, bracing against the cold and simultaneously doing his best to shield his superior from the brunt of it.

”Name of first pet… What the hell was I thinking when I let Brio set up these questions.” Cortex hissed to himself as he impatiently tapped his finger against the metal surface. His stress was visible, and Gin selfishly feared the man would have a heart attack and leave him stranded here in the approaching blizzard, which would be terribly inconvenient for him. He thought a moment himself.

“It’s Buttercup, sir.” N Gin interjected, earning a particular look from Cortex before the man turned from him and entered the correct phrase to carry on to the next section. Any talk of Brio, or vaguely related to him, was a sore spot for his superior. But a snide look was far better than freezing to death right outside of a safe haven.

After several agonizing minutes, the monitor flashed with a line of code and the hissing of machinery could be heard as the door gave way. Cortex scuttled in first, with the aid of Gin holding back the remaining bowed and broken branches, then followed after him. He shut and sealed the heavy door behind him with some effort then turned to examine his new surroundings.

This place, too, was frigid but considerably better than the harsh elements outside. He could hear the angry, wailing howls of the wind rushing by them, and the sound itself sent a shiver through him. He was used to the coldness of space, but the unpredictable and frigid air of the tundra was new territory. 

After a few oil lanterns were lit, the room came to life and Gin could appreciate it fully. The room they stood in was considerably large and consisted of rows of machinery. Though much of it was dilapidated, being around it gave him a cozy, ‘at home’ feeling.

It was clear a breach or two had been made during its owners hiatus, given the debris and dirt littering the floor and workstations. He watched as Cortex wiped the filth off a nearby terminal and examined it for any signs it could be salvaged. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to his companion, "So what do you think?”

“I-it’s impressive, sir... It really takes me back to my days in the Defense Industry, we had much of the same equipment…” More fond memories of past lives, but another simultaneous uncomfortable pang in his chest, and a twinge in his head.

“So you’re familiar with it then. Very good.” Cortex chirped and presented the area to him dramatically with a grand gesture of his hands, “N Gin, this is _all_ yours. _This_ is your new project."

The smile on Cortex's face didn't hold any sign of malice or jest that he could decipher- it was an experience he would _actually_ enjoy. He scuttled excitedly over to his superior, bouncing slightly in place as his the bubbling joy made it hard to stand still. Gin looked at him eagerly, wringing his hands in anticipation.

"It's clear the minions aren't competent enough to actually be successful in detaining the bandicoots. So I'll have to take matters into my own hands.” Cortex dug around in a few drawers before pulling out a stained and torn map of the area. It was marred with pinholes and faded ink of previous areas of interest. N Gin wondered what stories those points held, but now was not the time for interrogation.

With little regard, he brushed debris and scraps of electronics and research to the floor to spread the large map out flat on the available table. He pointed to one of the circled locations, indicating that is where they presently were.

“You see, I chose this location for a reason. Directly underneath there are abandoned mines where gems grow. Naturally, power crystals are superior but Brio was always more fond of gems and their properties, so we had to compromise.” He snickered before furrowing his brow, his face taking on the same sallow expression every time his past assistant’s name was brought up.

“Anyway, I project they'll be coming through here at some point soon, and I want us to be ready... So what I need from you is to repair all of this, and get this base operational again. I also want you to check the mines below. My scanners have indicated there is something of interest below us, but I can’t determine _where_ exactly. After that, we’ll begin harvesting at once. Time is of the essence, we can’t have the bandicoots beating us to it and getting their grubby little paws on our power source… Think you could manage that?"

Admittedly, he was intimidated by this request, and that so much was suddenly expected of him, and so quickly. Restoration was one thing, but foraging and excavating were an entirely different matter. Cortex had given him numerous responsibilities in the past, but generally they were in his field of expertise. As it was, fighting the bandicoots with robots to detain them couldn't really compare to being placed in the central position of ambush to carry out his Master’s time sensitive plans.

So much of this machinery was outdated and obsolete. He hadn't seen anything like this in at least twenty years- and he loved it. He loved breathing new life into machinery, to piece together the puzzles of gears, wires, and circuits and bring purpose back to something desolate and ruined. Few things were more satisfying than that...

"N Gin?"

"Yes?" He squeaked, more of a question than an answer, as he was snapped out of his daze and overwhelmed by all of the ideas and possibilities he now had running through his head.

"Good. I'll leave the base to you, then. It hasn't been operational for years, and I don't know what condition the lower levels are in. I'm not too concerned about the elements, more so the wildlife..." Cortex grimaced at area around him.

It was clear that in addition to a breach, this place had been inhabited before. The forgotten remains of nests and animal bones were scattered here and there, boasting this had served as a den to some entity at one time. That didn’t matter, he wasn’t afraid of a few foxes or arctic badgers. It was nothing a couple mines or sentry guns couldn’t fix, after all.

In the midst of his performance anxiety, he also suddenly felt so important, so _powerful_, that Doctor Cortex had trusted _him_ with something this _vital_ to their operation, and that he'd given it to him his _own personal project_. Cortex could have easily given this to Tropy, or one of the dozens of lab assistants… but instead, _he_ had specifically been chosen, that was incredibly touching. Maybe all his years of feeling unappreciated and unnoticed were coming to a close.

“So, you understand the tasks I’ve given you?” Cortex asked, waiting for N Gin’s approving nod, before continuing, “Good. I’ll be returning to the station then, but I’ll send supplies down to you soon.”

“O-oh, you’re leaving?” He wasn’t sure why he was surprised about this, perhaps it was the suddenness of it. Being left alone to explore an abandoned bunker had its thrills, but he didn’t particularly like the idea of being left alone when he had no knowledge of its security systems, or even what exactly was in here with them.

Admittedly, he also worried about Cortex alone. He knew the man could take care of himself… but he was also impulsive, and fragile, “Do you want me to go back with you to the beacon?”

The man screwed his face up with a sneer, this question clearly having offended him, “_No_, I want you to stay _here_ and do as you’re told. You’ve been given your orders, and we can’t afford to waste any time. Besides, I’ve already taken the beacon with me.”

He held up the glowing, cylindrical object from his bag as example, “I can’t just leave it laying around for anyone to board as they please. We would have an infestation of skiers and _tourists_ in a matter of hours, not to mention if the _bandicoots_ were to board… What do you take me for?”

“No sir, of course not, but uh… how… how am _I_ supposed to get back to the ship, myself?”

“Why would you need to come _back_?” Cortex narrowed his eyes, his impatience growing and visibly clear, “You have supplies here to hold you over, rations in your bag, and I told you that I’ll send someone down later. Plus, you have your transmitter if you need something before then. I really don’t see what the problem is here.”

To him, N Gin’s silent processing and hesitation that followed were a sign of insubordination, and distrust, to his master and he made no attempt to hide how much it stung and irritated him, “Are you having second thoughts? Because, _I_ hand selected _you_ just for this. But maybe I was wrong. You know what, you’re right. This is too much, I’m sure that _Nefarious_-”

“No. No, Doctor Cortex, I can do it. This- this is fine.” He placated him, shaking his head. Tropy always had the attitude their team would collapse without his existence, and he would do nothing to feed into that ego of his, especially not with this. _This_ was _his_ project and another opportunity to prove himself, and have some much needed alone time. He felt panicked, and angry, that it could be taken away and just _handed off_ to someone else, “I-I’m sorry for questioning your methods, sir. I’ll get right to work.”

“See that you do.” With that, he materialized, a bright blue flash filling the bunker before disappearing as quickly as it came. Left behind were burnt paper scraps and a smoldering mark on the concrete floor where the sudden burst of energy occurred.

Gin stood there a time, swaying and grinding his back teeth and tapping his fingers together rapidly as he tried to push away the feeling Cortex had more or less ditched him here on earth. There were certainly worse places to be stranded than his native planet, but when all of his belongings, his research, his entire _life_ were floating above him in space, totally unreachable, he might as well be an alien here. He _wanted_ to trust his superior blindly, but no matter how hard he tried there was always apprehension.

In a delayed fashion, he turned from the door and back to the now silent bunker. These machines would be an easy fix, once he could dig up the proper tools. Burying himself in his work would be a good way to vent his frustrations. He couldn’t afford to get worked up, not in this environment. With the close quarters and lack of proper ventilation, one of his outbursts could fill the room with enough smog and ash to asphyxiate someone, that someone being _him_, in a matter of minutes, and that would just be embarrassing.

He tried to perk up, reassuring himself this was second nature to him. Perhaps if he finished quickly enough, he would have enough time to play in the snow later without any risk of killjoy Cortex interrupting him. He could build a snowman, maybe even a snow _fortress_\- with working snowball guns! That in itself was enough motivation to give him focus on the task at hand.

A prolonged fit of giggles followed after him and echoed through the bunker halls as he scuttled along to orient himself with his new home and project. He didn’t know what awaited him in this place, but his rapidly cycling mood was influenced by his giddiness of potential playtime after and left him with nothing but an eager optimism.


End file.
